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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23602783">Dreamer - Songfic</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsadastraperaspera/pseuds/itsadastraperaspera'>itsadastraperaspera</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ellie's Songfic Sides [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Gen, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Insecure Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Light Angst, Minor Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Minor Morality | Patton Sanders - Freeform, Prince Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Roman wants to act, Roman/virgil if you squint, Songfic, Theatre nerd Roman, Virgil does crew, barely angst I promise, like actually, mentions of bullying, not extreme at all, not really the point of the story tho, really sorry about the summary, song: Dreamer (LaPeer)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:21:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,386</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23602783</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsadastraperaspera/pseuds/itsadastraperaspera</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Dream little dreamer<br/>Don't care what they say<br/>Don't let the pain of their failure<br/>Tear you away"<br/>- LaPeer, "Dreamer"</p><p>Roman Pomeroy just wants to be on stage. His father, however, is less than pleased when he auditions, and on top of that, Roman must battle his own insecurities and internalized issues. Will his passion for theatre and a new friend be enough? </p><p>** songfic based on LaPeer's song, Dreamer**</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ellie's Songfic Sides [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1781365</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dreamer - Songfic</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/581671">Dreamer</a> by LaPeer.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first fanfiction ever, and I'm really excited to share it with y'all! </p><p>I was inspired by Thomas' Roman playlist he released recently, and I'm not gonna lie, I listened to it on loop while I was writing. </p><p>This fic is based on a song from that playlist, Dreamer by LaPeer, so I highly recommend that you listen to that before you read or while you're reading! </p><p>* Bolded lines are the lyrics of the song and not my own work! *</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>~ Dreamer ~</p><p>
  <b>Dream little dreamer</b>
</p><p>A small prince danced in the kitchen, day-dreaming of dragons and valiant knights.</p><p>
  <b>Don't care what they say</b>
</p><p>"ROMAN!"</p><p> A sharp voice knocked him out of his thoughts. He stopped dancing and turned to his father.</p><p>"Stop that nonsense. Boys don't dance around. It's unmanly." He curled his lip. "I wouldn't want you to be a sissy." The malice contained in that last word chilled poor Roman Pomeroy to his core.</p><p>
  <b>Don't let the pain of their failure</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tear you away</b>
</p><p>A teenage Roman, braces newly-off and acne under control, stood near the stage door, shifting his weight and gripping his phone with white knuckles.</p><p>"Is he coming?"</p><p>"He'll make it. Don't worry, hon." </p><p>He sighed. He'd heard that line before.  </p><p>"PLACES!"</p><p>Roman covered the mic of his phone. "Thank you, five!"</p><p>Turning back to his phone, he said, "Okay, mom. I have to turn my phone off now… enjoy the show!"</p><p>"I'm front row, Roman! Break a leg!"</p><p>He turned off his phone, squared his shoulders, brushed off his knight costume, and stepped just behind the curtain.</p><p>The house lights dimmed, the curtains opened, and Roman stepped out. The movement was automatic, rehearsed a thousand times into perfection.</p><p>He scanned the crowd as he moved to his blocking, playing the part of a knight searching for the stolen princess.</p><p>He wasn't there.</p><p>
  <b>Dream little dreamer</b>
</p><p>Roman, with braces nearly off and the occasional spot of acne unable to be scrubbed away by any intense facial routine, stepped up to the flyer outside of the choir room, unsure. He stepped forward, fingers fumbling the cheap red-ink pen kept tucked in his back pocket at all times.</p><p>MUSICAL AUDITION SIGN UPS, the paper proclaimed proudly.</p><p>His heart yearned to sing and dance, to break free of the ribcage containing it, squeezing all of his passion into a tiny corner, silencing it.</p><p>Oh, this was a bad idea. He'd get hell for it at home.</p><p>"Heya, Ro!"</p><p>He practically jumped out of his skin, jarred back into the present. He swiveled to see his friend, Patton.</p><p>"Hey, Pat." He tucked his pen back into his pocket.</p><p>"Roman, were you going to sign up? That's so cool!"</p><p>"NO!" It slipped out before he could stop himself. Patton gazed at him curiously.</p><p>"I mean, there's nothing wrong with signing up for the play--"</p><p>"It's a musical, not a play!" Again, his mouth betrayed him.</p><p>Patton laughed it off. Bless him for being so positive.</p><p>"Right, my bad! Anyway, if you were going to sign up, you totally should!"</p><p>"I--um, well, I <em> wasn't </em>going to, but.. Yeah, I'll audition."</p><p>He signed his name on the paper.</p><p>
  <b>You can do anything</b>
</p><p>Roman clutched his audition piece to his heart. He had practiced quietly when his dad was home and loudly any other time. He performed for teachers, for the kids at recess, for his friends, for his stuffed animals (with his dragon-witch front and center), for everyone and anyone who would listen to him sing his heart out.</p><p>"Roman Pomeroy?" The choir teacher and theatre director stepped out of the audition room.</p><p>"Present!" He stood on wobbly legs and walked the short distance, feeling very much like a knight riding into battle. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest.</p><p>
  <b>What would you do if I told you</b>
</p><p>
  <b>You would always succeed</b>
</p><p>Roman rounded the corner into a group of people, all strangers to him, and all crowded around the cast list for the musical. His heart beat wildly, and thoughts raced through his mind. He stopped just before the crowd, half-tempted to turn around.</p><p>This was a bad idea.</p><p>His dad would be angry.</p><p>He wasn't going to get the part, anyway, so why bother?</p><p>Roman turned on his heel, resolute, and promptly smacked into someone else, also waiting for the crowd to thin.</p><p>
  <b>And we're all, we're afraid of the same things</b>
</p><p>He wore a black hoodie, marked with a dark gray plaid pattern.</p><p>"Oh, my God, I am so sorry-- I was just waiting for people to clear so I can look at the crew list, I didn't think you were going to turn around…" He rambled on, spitting out apologies and excuses at a rapid-fire pace. Roman held up his hands in a placating gesture.</p><p>"It's okay! I auditioned and I'm waiting for the cast list, but I don't think I made it so I was just going to head out without looking."</p><p>
  <b>Scared to end up alone</b>
</p><p>"Oh! Well… you should wait for the list, at least…" the boy trailed off. He bit his lip, considering his next words. "Do you… do you want to wait with me?"</p><p>Roman shrugged, secretly relieved. It couldn't hurt to wait. </p><p><b>Scared that no one will remember our names</b> </p><p>The crowd of kids thinned slowly, each potential cast member leaving with an affirmed smile on their face or thinly-veiled disappointment.</p><p>Roman and the boy waited patiently at the end of the hall, sitting cross-legged next to each other. They sat in a peaceful - albeit awkward - silence. </p><p>He couldn't stand it any longer.</p><p>"Anyway, so my name is Roman. What's yours?"</p><p>"Um, it's Virgil. Nice to meet you, Roman."</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <b>And we're all, we're afraid of the same things</b>
</p><p>A while later, the crowd had finally wandered off to celebrate or wallow.</p><p>Virgil looked at him. "Do you want to look at the same time?"</p><p><em> No. </em>"Yeah, sure."</p><p>Virgil stood quickly, dusting himself off, then turned and offered him a hand.</p><p>Roman stared at it, blinked, and then slowly reached up to take it. </p><p><b>Scared to try and to fail</b> </p><p>He stood just far away enough that he couldn't make out his name on the list. Virgil raced ahead of him, but turned back.</p><p>“Aren't you going to look?" He tilted his head quizzically.</p><p>Roman swallowed dryly.</p><p>Realization dawned on Virgil's face, and he asked, quietly, if Roman wanted him to look instead.</p><p>Roman nodded. </p><p>Virgil scanned the list, and went utterly still.</p><p>"YOU GOT THE LEAD!" Virgil practically exploded with excitement, a stark difference from the uptight, quiet boy Roman had been sitting with. </p><p>
  <b>Scared our best isn't good enough</b>
</p><p>Roman blanched. He got the lead? Why? He had so little acting experience, he was sure that there were better actors in the show, why was he chosen, oh, god--</p><p>"Roman, are you okay?"</p><p>He snapped back to reality.</p><p>"Look, I know we just met and all, but.. I think you're gonna do great. They wouldn't have chosen you if you weren't worth it." </p><p><b>Dream like you won't fail</b> </p><p>He stepped into the theatre, feeling like his knees were made of jelly. Some of the cast was already on the stage stretching, while others warmed up their vocals and others still sat in the audience, chatting.</p><p>Roman took a seat in the back of the house, unsure of what to do. He looked around and spotted Virgil, who had clearly spotted him as well. Virgil made his way over to Roman, sliding into the seat behind him and leaning on Roman's backrest with his elbows.</p><p>"So, what are you going to do?" Virgil's eyebrow quirked.</p><p>"I don't know, honestly… Everyone seems to know what they're doing already."</p><p><b>Sing like no one's there</b> </p><p>"You could do your vocal warm-ups. You want to be well-prepared, right?"</p><p>"I don't want them to judge me--" Roman started, only to be cut off by Virgil, who held up a hand in a “stop” gesture.</p><p>"Then pretend no one else is here. It's just you, and you're warming up in your room."</p><p>"Okay." He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and started his repetitions of "Do, Re, Mi".</p><p>
  <b>Dance like you don't care</b>
</p><p>"Alright, guys, take five and we'll come back to run through the opening number one more time!" The director paused the rehearsal track.</p><p>"Thank you, five," the cast chorused before splitting apart to take their breaks.</p><p>Roman did a quick stretch, listening to the duo next to him.</p><p>"The new guy's kind of weird." The first one subtly nodded his head in Roman's direction.</p><p>"Yeah, his form is off, too. D'you think he's ever taken dance lessons,” the second one said with a hint of animosity.</p><p>"Dunno, man, but I don't understand why he got the lead. Zach deserved it more."</p><p>Roman, ever the actor, tried to keep up the calm façade, but his eyes welled with tears. Through the salty sting, he saw Virgil up at the soundboard. His friend's words echoed through his head:</p><p>
  <em> I think you're gonna do great. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> They wouldn't have chosen you if you weren't worth it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> They wouldn't have chosen you if you weren't worth it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Worth it. </em>
</p><p>He was worth it. He was worthy.</p><p>The rehearsal track started to play. Roman put his head up and rocked the choreography, because who cared what they thought? Theatre was where he was free.</p><p>
  <b>Dream</b>
</p><p>Rehearsal was over, and Roman had just started toward the exit when he heard someone shout.</p><p>"Roman!"</p><p>Roman turned back to see his director waving him back. His stomach churned with anxiety, even though he knew he had done nothing wrong.</p><p>"I just wanted to say that you made a lot of improvement today. Keep it up, and you're going to do just fine here." The director nodded resolutely, and pivoted back to the stage manager.</p><p>It wasn't much, but it was enough to set Roman at ease. He might make it.                                                             </p><p>
  <b>Don't fear, little dreamer</b>
</p><p>"YOU DID <em> WHAT?!" </em>His father's face was practically purple, and Roman could see a vein bulging from his forehead.</p><p>His mom stepped in to defend him. "Richard, it's hardly worth getting upset, it's just a high school play--"</p><p>"Musical," Roman mumbled. God, he really needed to stop doing that.</p><p>"I won't let my son become a pansy! Participating in this-- this <em> NONSENSE-- </em>will ruin him! He needs to focus on his schoolwork."</p><p>
  <b>You'll get there one day</b>
</p><p>Roman stepped in the door, shoulders slumped and sore from rehearsal. It had been a good one, but his director really knew how to drill choreography.</p><p>His father was sitting on the couch, reading the daily newspaper.</p><p>"Hey, dad, I'm home from rehearsal."</p><p>He didn't look up from his newspaper. "Oh, good, you're home from <em> rehearsal </em>." He spit out that word like it tasted bitter in his mouth.  "Go do your homework."</p><p>Roman sighed and went upstairs. Pick your battles, Pomeroy. Pick your battles.</p><p>
  <b>And I know that it's scary</b>
</p><p>"Dad, it's fun, and it’s a great way for me to express myse--"</p><p>"The hell it is!"</p><p>"If you would just listen to me, you might learn that--"</p><p>"What. What would I learn? Please, enlighten me!"</p><p>"You might learn that I don't care about being a 'real man'!" He gestured wildly, ending with exaggerated air quotes.</p><p>His dad went still. Roman kept going.</p><p>"Theatre makes me feel free, okay? I don't feel like that when I play football or soccer or baseball or anything else. I want to keep doing theatre, and I want you to support me."</p><p>His dad stared at him. Then he went back to reading his newspaper, like Roman wasn't even there. </p><p><b>But you'll succeed</b> </p><p>A few days later, two tickets appeared on the fridge, tucked under a plain magnet. His dad refused to talk about it. </p><p>
  <b>Don't fear, little dreamer</b>
</p><p>Rehearsals proceeded as usual. Roman memorized his lines, learned his dances, and perfected his characterizations. He still worried about what the other members thought, but, more often than not, that was only a small thought in the back of his mind when he was on stage.</p><p><b>Let them hear you sing</b> </p><p>His favorite part of rehearsal was singing the songs. He loved to sing, but he had never been able to as much as he did now.</p><p>Everything faded away when he sang. Nothing mattered except the notes and the words and the <em> feeling. </em>He remembered the first time he sang for the cast:</p><p>"Okay, Roman, you start us off."</p><p>He took a deep breath and began. It started quiet, but slowly grew in a crescendo until he was belting out the notes acapella. He closed his eyes and counted the measures as he sang of heartbreak and loss, of a knight in search of his true love, of hope and desperation and <em> love. </em>As he approached the measure where his love interest should have picked up the melody with the ensemble, he was met with only silence.</p><p>
  <b>What would you do if I told you</b>
</p><p>
  <b>That we'll always believe</b>
</p><p>He opened his eyes to see that everyone was staring, slack-jawed. Then, slowly, one of them began to clap. And another. And another. And then suddenly the whole room was cheering and clapping as if Roman had performed some miracle.</p><p>Perhaps he had. </p><p>
  <b>And we all</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Oh we question the same things</b>
</p><p>Outside of the theatre, however, it was a different story.</p><p>High school, as it should be well-known, is a place of intense internal strife and misunderstandings; drama, gossip, and downright hostility thrive when every single one of the thousands of students is experiencing the most hormonal rollercoaster of their respective lives.</p><p>One would think, knowing this fact, that they would bond together, having understood each other's feelings and knowing that everyone is experiencing the same thing.</p><p>That simply wasn't the case for Roman's school.</p><p>
  <b>Why does life seem unfair</b>
</p><p>Roman may have been a musical prodigy, but he was still a gangly teen, full of bravado and confidence. His flair for the flamboyant made him a target, and it was easy for him to forget that he was worth it. </p><p>
  <b>Why does loneliness hurt so much</b>
</p><p>Roman shared no classes with Virgil or Patton, their lunch periods didn't match, and despite his reception within the cast, none of them talked outside of rehearsal. That meant that Roman was alone, all day, until rehearsal came along.</p><p>He tried not to let it bother him, but honestly-- he was a people person. Insecure in the way that all teenagers are, but easily excitable and hard to stop from rambling on about musicals or whatever whimsical thing had caught his fancy. So for everyone around him to move away when he spoke, or tease him for having strong opinions about the newest animated movie…</p><p>His glow started to fade.</p><p>
  <b>And we all</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Oh we question the same things</b>
</p><p>That was when he met Lily. </p><p>She didn’t hang with the "it" crowds, either, and she seemed to like Roman. She was just above average, and she was exactly what Roman thought he needed.</p><p>
  <b> What is my purpose in life</b>
</p><p>         From the moment they started dating, Roman devoted himself to two things:</p>
<ul>
<li>        Convincing himself he loved her, and</li>
<li>        Convincing her he loved her</li>
</ul><p>Theatre and school took the backseat as he showered Lily with affection and attention.</p><p>
  <b>Why does love never seem like enough</b>
</p><p>But it never felt <em> right </em>to Roman, no matter how many times he told her that she was the one he loved. They could kiss a thousand times, but nothing filled the hole in his chest. He had always thought of love as a fanciful thing, mystical and wonderful. He imagined that kissing would cause sparks and fireworks, but… he felt numb when he kissed Lily.</p><p>Maybe she just wasn't the one for him.</p><p>So he moved from girl to girl, determined to find the one that would make him feel the way he did when he thought about kissing Vir-- about kissing.</p><p>That was a problem for another time, however, because Roman was rapidly moving into tech week.</p><p>
  <b>Dream like you won't fail</b>
</p><p>  "Oh, Roman, won't you perform just a little bit for me?" His mom smiled, pride dancing across her features.</p><p>It was five days until the show opened, and Roman was just as excited as his mother was. He thought for a moment, then started one of his favorite monologues-- only to be interrupted by his mom.</p><p>"Wait, wait, wait, I don't want you to spoil anything-- I guess I'll just have to tough it out." She giggled a little, and Roman grinned.</p><p>His dad wouldn't talk to him, but the tickets remained on the fridge. </p><p><b>Sing like no one's there</b> </p><p>Roman's excitement only grew as the days flew by, one grueling rehearsal after another. He belted out his songs, falling into a state of bliss that lasted for hours after the run was over. Nothing existed except for Roman and the words.</p><p><b>Dance like you don't care</b> </p><p>His choreography came together perfectly, and he was finally able to strike every pose, hit every beat, and still sing and act at the same time.</p><p>Roman's fellow cast members -- finally recovered from the shock of his fantastic solo -- thought he was being "extra", but he didn't care. He knew what mattered to him, and it wasn't their jealousy-fueled opinions -- it was theatre.</p><p>
  <b>You're exceptional</b>
</p><p>And through the whole process, Virgil was there.</p><p>Roman jumped off the stage, practically skipping up the aisle to Virgil's soundboard. He was sitting cross-legged on the desk chair behind the board, headphones around his neck. Virgil threw him a lopsided smirk.</p><p>"You did good out there, Ro!"</p><p>Roman beamed, still riding on the euphoria and adrenaline of the show's run.</p><p>
  <b>You're original</b>
</p><p>He fell into place through theatre. He had always followed the crowd, more or less, and any deviance had been shamed into nonexistence.</p><p>Roman learned how to act like someone else, and he realized that he loved it; through that, he learned that he loved being himself more.</p><p>
  <b>So stay true to your soul</b>
</p><p>  "I don't want this," Roman said to his latest fling. "I'm sorry if I led you on."</p><p> <b>Don't let them take that away</b></p><p>He came out to his parents the same afternoon.</p><p>As he expected, his mother was more or less unfazed and supportive.</p><p>His dad was silent. The tickets remained on the fridge. Roman took that as a good sign, but he honestly didn't know what to think. </p><p>
  <b>You're magnificent</b>
</p><p>He danced across the stage, euphoric and free. Three days to the show.</p><p>
  <b>You're sensational</b>
</p><p>  He held the last note, vibrato ringing across the theatre. He cut himself off, beaming. The auditorium was silent -- he could have heard a pin drop. Then, just like that first day of vocal rehearsals, someone started to slow clap.</p><p>Roman turned to the origin of the sound, expecting one of his peers, but--</p><p>It was his director.</p><p>"Roman Pomeroy, that was sensational. You're going to kill the show tomorrow."</p><p>
  <b>And the dreams that you're dreaming will surely come true one day</b>
</p><p>Then it was suddenly opening night, and Roman didn't feel like he was going to kill it.</p><p>He paced backstage, dressed head-to-toe like a knight out of fifteenth century Europe. He gripped his phone in his hand as he spoke to his mother in hushed tones.</p><p>"PLACES!"</p><p>He whispered a final goodbye and put his phone away, lifting his head and squaring his shoulders. He stepped out onto the stage as the lights came up, no longer Roman Pomeroy but a knight in shining armor, searching for his lost love.</p><p>His father wasn't there. He spotted his mother in the front row, as promised, with one seat next to her -- empty.</p><p>He would find later that one ticket remained on the fridge door.</p><p>
  <b>Dream like you won't fail</b>
</p><p>He held back his tears; this night was too important for him to ruin with his own issues.</p><p><em> You're worth it, </em>he heard Virgil whispering in the back of his mind.</p><p>
  <b>Sing like no one's there</b>
</p><p> He exchanged tears for an outpouring of emotion as he sang the opening number, channeling everything within him into the loss and heartbreak of the song. </p><p>
  <em> You did good out there, Ro. </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Dance like you don’t care</b>
</p><p>His life ceased to exist. All that mattered was the next dance step, the next note, the next line, the heat of the stage lights.</p><p>
  <em> I think you're gonna do great. </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Dream</b>
</p><p>He glanced at the empty seat, only to see it filled.</p><p>Virgil sat next to Roman’s mother, smiling softly.</p><p>
  <b>Dream</b>
</p><p>Roman blinked, suddenly thrown off beat.</p><p>Then he was gone, leaving Roman to wonder if he had been real at all.</p><p>
  <b>Dream</b>
</p>
  </div></div>
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